


I'm Christmas

by jpegcalum



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Brotp, Christmas, Cute christmas fluff, Family, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gen, OT3, Stucky - Freeform, bucky kind of remembers, cute bucky, he wants to make steve happy, post winter soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 16:27:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5382107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jpegcalum/pseuds/jpegcalum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky just wants to make Steve laugh, and ends up being adorable as hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Christmas

Things were pretty rough at first, getting Bucky back. Steve knew that they would be. He didn't expect that things would ever go back to the way they were before.

Bucky was like a shelter dog. He was restless, up night after night, wandering the small apartment. He wasn't ever loud, the only evidence that he was even up at three in the morning, the quiet, somewhat metallic buzz of the television. He'd taken to vintage cartoons- Mickey Mouse, mostly. Steve had heard it one night, and mentioned it to Sam the next day. That afternoon, a package had arrived, a collection of Mickey Mouse cartoons for the quiet man. He'd cracked a smile, and that was more than enough for Steve's soul to light up.  
Steve knew that it wouldn't be easy, as if he could snap his fingers and have his best friend back. Bucky was still a little lost, but he was finding his way back. His memories were returning, sure, but they were slow, foggy. So, Steve didn't force him into anything. He just made sure he was okay, taking care of him like Bucky did for him, all those times back in Brooklyn whenever he fell ill, which, in reality, was quite often.

It was a week till Christmas, and the apartment had been decorated for the holiday, lights strung around the beige ceiling, stockings hung from the wooden mantle. They'd gone shopping, gotten Bucky his own clothes and Christmas stocking- (he'd picked out a red one with little stars on it, one that matched Steve's), and some ornaments for the tree that was currently bare.  
He didn't quite understand it all, but he'd mumbled a few times about the trees that his family had had, how his little sister had made the decorations from newspaper and scraps of paper and yarn, and sometimes, shells that he'd collected from sailors at the docks. He remembered that clearly, for some reason.  
Steve found that, whenever Buck remembered something, he made a face. A sort of pensive, regretful face, as if he'd broken something incredibly important, a sort of kicked puppy face. He'd swallow hard and wet his lips, blinking hard and staring down at his palms as if they'd betrayed him, as if his metallic hand had torn the thought away.  
Happy memories were the best, though. His lips would curl into a content grin, his blue eyes warm and comfortable. It never lasted very long, but Steve would encourage him to try to remember more, to try things that they used to do.

Natasha offered to come over and help decorate the tree, claiming that 'Clint wasn't doing anything fun', so Steve had accepted, and that is how the three ended up in the living room of Steve's apartment. In pajamas obligatory Christmas hats, no less.

Bucky looked confused when Nat stuck the hat atop his head, his chocolate curls mussed under the red and white fabric, but after a minute or two, and an encouraging look from a matching Steve, he allowed himself to relax.

He sits on the floor, completely silent as he works at untangling a ball of Christmas lights, Nat hovering by the stereo as she tries to tune it to the right Christmas station, and Steve is standing in the kitchen doorway, watching as he waits for the oven timer to go off. Leaving the kitchen while cooking is really dangerous, okay? He just doesn't want these cookies to burn.  
It's not like he hasn't done Christmas since he got out of the ice. It's just that *Bucky hasn't*. He wants everything to be perfect. Every moment he gets to see him smile is worth the entire world to Steve.

"You got it, котёнок?" Natasha asked, turning to Bucky as soon as Steve had wandered back into the kitchen to check the oven.  
The man looked up as he tugged at the knotted lights, loosing the tangle after a few minutes of picking at it. He liked Natasha. She was nice to him, and she didn't treat him like he was made of glass. Not that Steve did.

" Я понял." He replied in quiet Russian, smiling lightly. He looked at the strand curiously, holding one of the lights between metal fingers and twisting it. He wasn't sure he knew what they were, or what they looked like when lit. The ones hanging from the ceiling were shaped like stars, and these were clearly different. Hydra didn't decorate for Christmas.  
He frowned, studying one of the bulbs when suddenly, it lit up, startling him a bit. A soft laugh made him look up, meeting Natasha's eyes. She motioned to the plug in the wall, and Bucky understood.

"I like these." He said quietly, and the woman nodded, looking over his head, at the kitchen door. Steve stood there with a fond smile, his eyes on the man on the floor.  
Bucky gave a little smile, and Steve nodded, a look of such... adoration on his face.  
The blue eyes were so comforting, so home, and it made Bucky nearly melt- a feeling that wasn't all that common to him. He loved it.  
He loved Steve.  
The memories of his friend from all those years ago were vivid, and vague all at once, but he remembered that look on his face from before. Maybe Bucky had just dismissed it as fondness.

He must have been staring, because the sound of a light cough brought him back to reality, and he turned to where Nat was standing, a light smirk on her lips. Steve retreated into the kitchen, presumably to check the oven again.

"You've got it bad, котёнок." She said, and Bucky shook his head, feeling his cheeks heating up as he picked at the lights absently, his eyes on the soft fleece sweatpants on his legs.

"I like it when he laughs." He replied. Steve didn't laugh enough, in his opinion. He missed it.

Natasha nodded, leaning against the wall and tugging at the strings of her hoodie, looking towards the empty kitchen doorway again.

"Wanna make him laugh?" She asked, and Bucky nodded without hesitation.

"Then give me those lights."  
\- -  
Not five minutes later did Steve walk into the living room with a tray of cookies and a mug of coffee in his hands, and freeze the moment his eyes fell on the pair of trouble makers.  
Sitting on the floor, the string of lights wrapped around him and the tree's star atop his head, Bucky wore the most innocent smile.  
Natasha stood, leaning against the mantle, biting her lip to keep from laughing.

"W-What's this?" Steve asked, a giggle on his breath. Bucky's smile grew.

"I'm Christmas." He replied, and that was all it took. Natasha lost it, laughing so hard that she had to sit down, and Steve turned around, going right back into the kitchen. Bucky's smile disappeared instantly, and he sighed, looking down at his feet sadly. He'd really thought his friend would like this...

"Bucky?" The voice made him look up to see Steve standing there with his phone, a wide grin on his face.  
"Smile, buddy, you're my Christmas-" He paused, as if contemplating ending his sentence there.  
"Christmas card."

Bucky gave a little grin, his arms at his sides- he looked ridiculous, but Nat was still giggling behind them.  
Steve snapped the photo before setting his phone down on the floor, and he sat beside his friend.

"You're adorable." He mumbled, and Bucky giggled softly- so quietly that Steve nearly missed it.

"I'm Christmas." He repeated, and Steve laughed.

"You are. You're the best Christmas ever."

**Author's Note:**

> котёнок- Kitten (A term of endearment)  
> Я понял- "I got it."
> 
> The art is a crappy doodle by me ^.^ I hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
